


A MATTER OF JUSTICE

by TheAnderfelsOne



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: I don't know what to tag honestly, M/M, go for it if you like Anders and Hawke happy in love, go for it if you think Fenris is an arsehole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3951349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnderfelsOne/pseuds/TheAnderfelsOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A talk of much importance that Fenris had with Hawke made a bad spin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A MATTER OF JUSTICE

**Author's Note:**

> So. I'm gonna break all the rules about the 'try to stay sweet on all the characters and not bash anyone in this fandom ' and do whatever the heck I want. I've been meaning to write this and other stuff about this because I needed to get it out of my system. I just uuughhh I fucking-- fuck I don't like him. I just wanted him to eat back his ugliness.
> 
> So yeah. I don't like Fenris. And that is the most polite way for me to put it. So if you're sweet on him, don't read this.  
> And yet this ended up to be waaaaaaaay softer than what I intended to. (mgonna try harder next time)  
> This is just a piece of my mind on what I think about him. and I didn't make Hawke a mage just to preserve some 'fairness'.
> 
> And thanks to MrBellamy for sharing my way of thinking <3 and finding the title 'cause I was going to title it something real nasty if I followed my guts! 
> 
> Aah. I feel better now

That night, they were all holed up in Varric’s suite. After a whole day spent killing slavers and demons in an abandoned cave, Hawke all but walked straight to the Hanged Man to chill out and drown the pressure away in bad ale and the symphonic sounds of bar fights.

At first Hawke just wanted to stay downstairs, mingle with the masse of Lowtown. Until it quickly escalated into ‘very annoying’ what’s with the number of time people stopped him mid talk just to flail about his prowess with the dragon's story Varric's been narrating or to get advices on fighting skills and swordsmanship and for the drunkest of all, poke and feel up his naked biceps like a bull about to get bought.

They were on their third Diamonds Back game and fifth Wicked Grace and a drink for each new game.

“Honestly Isabela, I think you should just stop trying.” Hawke laughed out loud spilling some of his beer left and right.  

“S’not because you won two times in a row that you became invincible, tiger!” Isabela taunted. More with a cleavage threatening to spill on the table than with her actual words.

“What can I say, I’m in luck!”

“I hope you didn’t get hit by an increasing-luck-in-cards kinda spell during that fight today Hawke. Or else we’re all doomed. My tab first.” Varric hooted, swaying his tankard left and right.

Fenris scowled unpleased by the frivolous and reckless mention of spells and especially any spells thrown during that fight with Hedriana. Hawke had helped him. Again. And he was ever so grateful by lashing out on him, insulting his lover and coming back for an apology that only turned into a rant about how bitter and angry he still was.

He snorted loudly and turned to look away, only to find his eyes land on Anders sitting ever so slightly too close to Hawke - as usual - sipping quietly on his one tankard of the night.

“No Varric, I think he meant he got lucky.” Isabela slurred beside him, winking at both Varric and Hawke and pointing toward Anders with her head as if it wasn’t subtle enough. But that was just how Isabela was subtle when she was on her seventh or eighth glass.

Anders blushed and indulged her with a smile as Hawke’s face lit up with a sly grin at the innuedo. He nudged Anders closer to him as if the blond mage was about to leave his sight now that he was mentioned.

He was coatless, wearing just a loose creamy tunic neat and ironed and presumably expensive. Hawke spoiled him like no one’s business. Openly or privately, everybody guessed that the whole Kirkwall knew within three weeks that a certain blond man was Garrett Hawke’s lover. The spiciest bits were the rumors of him being a mage. It elicited a real gossipy topic especially amidst the nobles as their reactions were torn between sheer stupor and uncanny interest. You see, bedding a mage was considered almost like… a wicked pleasure. A sinful desire. And imagining Hawke who was already swooning material taking a mage as lover was every self-respected noble lady’s fantasy.

And this whole situation only fueled Hawke’s public teasing and over-inflated ego much to the mage in question’s bashfulness.

Alright, perhaps there was a prickling of pride at being kissed in broad daylight and showed public affection. Anders would never truly begrudge it.

But around the table Hawke kept, not everyone was sharing their happiness. Even if it was hard not to crack a smile at Hawke floundering around the apostate in a drunken state, the opinions diverged.

And it wasn’t really about Hawke. Hawke was well loved. Those who didn’t agree usually had issues with the other half.

And just as usually, they kept their remarks to themselves.  Because Hawke was in love and Hawke wouldn’t tolerate it. And if you managed that simple rule, the man would be nothing but a darling with you.

All of a sudden Hawke’s whole forearm disappeared inside Anders’ front tunic startling the whole table and the owner of said tunic.

“Garrett! Maker…” Anders gasped, furious red crippling up every visible part of his pale skin as he floundered with Hawke’s arm.

“Oh shit Hawke, I want none of it on my table.” Varric commented offhandedly while Isabela licked her lips obscenely, “Someone’s horny.” She nudged Merrill on her side who tittered.

“Let’s see if I’m getting lucky tonight…  Am I getting lucky tonight, Anders?” Hawke drawled. 

Aveline groaned shaking her head, hiding her vision behind the rim of her tankard while Sebastian's cheeks pinked as he coughed in his hand and Fenris scowled averting his eyes but not before they caught the glint of something that spilled off the mage’s shirt. And his eyes grew wide with shock.

There, dangling carelessly off the mage’s neck, the Tevinter chantry symbol.

Fenris felt wild ires consuming him. How dare him… How could he… sprawl this blasphemous thing around his neck unashamedly. So he was right. The abomination was really no better than the magisters crawling the Imperium. To parade around under the Divine’s lands wearing this trinket meant one thing to the elf. The mage condoned what was going on in Tevinter. And it made Fenris’ nostrils flare with rage. That bloody abomination…

But then he saw Hawke flick the amulet playfully between his fingers with no care to the world and it dawned on him - Back in the magisters’ caves - So Hawke was the one who gave him that spiteful object. And another kind of anger blazed inside him. It wasn’t enough that Hawke choose to trust that abomination with his heart. Now he was also condoning the likes of him. Condoning the Imperium. Condoning what happened to him.

He thought Hawke would understand. After all, he gladly fought slavers before. And three weeks later after taking Anders into his bed, this?

Fenris thoughts were brutally interrupted by a loud whistle and hoot. He lifted his head only to see Anders’ hair loose around his face and Hawke proudly holding the hair band in his hand like a prize.

“Garrett give it back.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Suck on a fire ball?” Isabela provided and everyone broke into a laugh.

“I’m going to get refreshments while Anders remember it.” Hawke winked at his lover and stood up, swaying slightly on his feet. “Seems like Norah forgot about us.”

Fenris couldn’t calm the ire boiling in him. His clawed gauntlets itched for one thing. Rip off that insulting amulet from that brazen neck that snickered at him. He needed an explanation and he needed it now.

He waited for a minute and then got up too. He mumbled something no one really heard and Varric only shot him a “You’ll be back?”

He half nodded and stalked for the door.

He found Hawke palming coin into Norah's hand and nodding his head toward the stairs.

“Hawke.” Fenris called from behind the warrior’s back.

“Oh hey.”

“May I have a word? In private please.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“Can we go outside?” Fenris suggested after ducking a drunken man from landing on him.

“Uh, yeah. Lead on.”

They exited the Hanged Man, standing near the door, under the velvet darkness of the night, the cold breeze biting at their warm cheeks, making Hawke’s next breath come out in a foggy puff of air.

Fenris shifted on his feet, gazing sideways and downward as Hawke started to frown.

“So?” Hawke pressed.

Fenris stopped his fidgeting at the questionably tone and stood straight. “Is it you who gave the mage that Tevinter chantry pendant?”

Hawke’s head tipped slightly to side in question. “Yeah.”

Fenris threw him a peeved look. “So that was what you scooped from that small chest in the caves earlier. Why? To spite me? Insult me maybe?”

“What? Insult you? It has nothing to do with you Fenris. It’s not like I gave it to you. _That_ would probably look insulting.”

“Probably? Is it all a joke to you now? Or is that abomination wiped you mind? Did you forget what I suffered by the hands of that same Tevinter chantry? Didn’t you think that it would probably be disrespectful toward other people? Or does nothing else matter now that he’s living with you?” Fenris spat unable to contain the anger and the prickles of twisted jealousy willing up his stomach.

It was something he didn’t want to admit to himself. Ever since his path crossed the warrior’s, he couldn’t help but follow the man on his foolish adventures whether in his pursuit of coin or to leap at a mage’s help. Even so far as following him to the Deep Roads. The man was just a gust of fresh breath and liberty inside a bundle of ham-fisted determination and grit and Fenris couldn’t help but be drawn to that magnetism and agree whenever the man seeked his help.

 Hawke used to be a good friend. Listened to his confidences about the Imperium and what happened to him at the hands of Danarius. But then that bloody abomination and his demon had to… Shit. It was all insufferable.  

Hawke threw him a dour look. “You know what’s insulting? It’s your bloody temper and your two bits apologies after helping you inside that slavers' cave if we even want to call them that. We rushed to help you as soon as we got the locations of that woman because you couldn’t bloody wait. And this is how you thank us? If it wasn’t for Anders I’ll be still coughing blood from that blighted woman’s spell. He closed your wounds Fenris! How could you be so ungrateful?” Hawke spat, voice suddenly soaring up. He uncrossed his arms and jabbed a finger at the elf.

“Also Fenris,” and he advanced slowly on the elf, expression hard and unforgiving, “You don’t call him that. Anymore.” Hawke said voicing out each word slowly to show his seriousness. “If you can’t respect him enough to call him by his bloody name, then you don’t respect me too.”

Fenris eyes grew wide, brows startled up behind his bangs, “What do you mean, of course I respect you Hawke! I always did despite all the choices you’ve taken!”

“Oh I know your heart bleed whenever I spare a poor mage or help him flee the Gallows,” Hawke’s voice dripped with scorn. “But Anders is my lover and I won’t stand by hearing you call him despicable names.” Hawke grounded. His voice dropped dangerously low even if no one was walking the midnight streets around them.

“But you must see that this mage will lead you to your dead in his madness and insane plots for freedom! You even saw yourself what that demon inside him was capable of! he's dangerous Hawke, you're clever enough to know it.” Fenris rebuked. His fists clenched, his eyes wild and blameful, trying to hold his ground in the face of Hawke’s strong posture.

 Hawke was fixing Fenris with stony pale eyes wild and pissy for a while but then, all at once his expression quelled into something coolly but no less wintry. “He’s so much more than you’ll ever be able to grasp, and you know what? That’s just sad. Considering he tried so many times to show you reason. But you’re like a thick brick wall unable to see past yourself while Anders wish he could split himself to help his kind one by one. So if you want to mourn your fate for the rest of your life fine, I don’t give a somersaulting fuck, but this is the last time you disrespect Anders, Fenris.”

“Are you threatening me Hawke?” Fenris snarled between his teeth, anger and contrite balling up his throat. Somewhere in the surface of his mind he knew he probably went too far. He never meant to be personal of his relationship with the mage and ended up with Hawke saying things more hurtful than that Tevinter chantry necklace. But the harm was done and Hawke didn’t look like going back on his words. In fact he looked like he meant every single one with sheer heat.

“Take it however you want. I’m not in the mood for diplomacy anymore. But know this Fenris,” and Hawke dropped his tone into an icy rumble, “Anders is my family now. And if you insult him, then you insult my family and you do know what my family means to me.”

Family. He was family now. Fenris would never dare saying something bad about that sensitive subject. Everyone knew how Hawke was after his mother’s death. He was an inconsolable wreck and no one beside Anders saw him for weeks on end.

Now everyone knew better than to talk about that sensitive spot. Even Merrill long since stopped asking about Bethany in the circle for the simple reason that Hawke barely knew himself.

But the green eyed little monster in Fenris couldn’t help but think it was unfair. The abomination didn’t deserve Hawke’s kindness. He was clearly a wreck with his no-stop ranting and illegal plans in which he was now dragging Hawke.   

“I respect you Hawke. But I won’t be threatened.” The elf said ultimately.

“No you don’t.” Hawke retorted.

“I do. I just don’t have to respect the people you decide to sleep with. Not like all of them inside do anyway.” Fenris revealed coolly. Arms crossed.

“Anders is not any _people!_ He’s my lover! What’s your fucking problem Fenris?!” Hawke hissed sharply, advancing on the elf. He was probably ass-drunk but it wasn’t enough to simmer the anger and vexation flaring up.  

The man stopped an inch from Fenris’ face. “You know what? I don’t care. Just stop insulting him behind my back for starters.”

Fenris’ fists constricted. It’s been a while since someone entered his personal space and threatened his way around him like that.

“Hawke you better back up.” Fenris growled.

“Not until you tell me you’re going to stop being so self-centered and show some actual respect to someone who constantly heal you.” The edge of his tone was sharp and cutting like slicing wire. Like nothing he ever heard.

He never wanted for things to escalate to that point but Hawke didn’t leave him a choice and he didn’t want to be squashed. Not for that mage’s pleasure. Not for anyone’s pleasure. “I won’t take orders from you.” he growled, choosing to stand by his pride.

What he didn’t anticipate too was Hawke pushing him forcefully to stumble backward. He looked up fiercely and shockingly, markings flared into life at the sudden threat of violence. He was met with the most glacial glare he’d saw so far on the warrior. Hawke cracked his neck and gritted his teeth, shaking off the anger-honed violence that took reins of his body for a split second.

Fenris was about to react when suddenly the door between them creaked open and Anders’ head popped out of it, loose hair and all.

“Love? Everything’s all right?” The mage’s eyes did a quick flicking between the two men, taking in the balled fists and angry glares and frowned, pushing the door more open to step outside.

Hawke’s whole expression changed like flipping a switch behind his eyelids. “Yeah babe.” He said softly despite the faint rasp lingering in his tone. Anders gave him an incredulous stare and turned to Fenris who was eying him murderously. Hawke followed his gaze.

“Fenris was about to leave anyway.” Hawke stated with detachment, voice thick and glacial as he regarded the elf. He put an arm around Anders and tried to tug him back inside.

“And also don’t bother coming to apologize later _again_. I’ll probably be busy with Anders and not in the mood.” Hawke claimed at last and dragged Anders and himself back to the warm embrace of the bar.


End file.
